Shattered Glass
by WhiteLinen
Summary: The Fearsome Four" after Voldemort's reawakening. No definate pairings yet... Just read... Set after OOTP. Thx, t14m :D:D
1. Shattered Glass

Shattered Glass

***And I'm back again!  I hope that you all enjoy it!  By the way, I don't own Harry Potter, just the entire book series except for the Chamber of Secrets, which my brother ruined, and ****COS**** on VHS.  Again, enjoy, and thanks for reading!!**

**~the14milo**

She threw the glass across the room.  Shards of it flew at her and embedded in her skin.  She was void of emotion, and left the room as silently as she had entered it.  She knew what was coming.  She quietly climbed the stairs to her bedroom and shut the door.  Her footsteps were muffled as she crossed the carpet.  Hermione Granger pulled on her cloak, and threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire.  She whispered the name of a place, too faintly to be heard by anyone other than the fire.  It turned green; she stepped in, and was gone.

            Miles away, Harry Potter sensed that something was wrong.  He jumped out of bed and bumped into a table by his bed.  A glass of water fell and smashed.  He knew what was to come.  He sat at his desk and scrawled a quick note, then attached it to Hedwig's leg.  After tossing her out the window, he paced.

            Ron Weasley slipped out of his room.  In the hallway, there was a table on which there was a bottle of ink.  He overturned the table, and the bottle crashed to the ground.  He fled the house, grabbing a broomstick and flew away, his shadow cutting through the night like a knife.

            Stealthily, he crept through the kitchen.  He searched through the drawers until he found what he was looking for.  He grasped the key firmly in his hand, and then headed for the dungeon.  He whispered a spell to make the sound of the key in the lock silent, then unlocked the door and snuck down the stairs.  Draco Malfoy reached the bottom of the stairs, found the right jar, and performed a powerful spell, known only by few.  The lid burst off the jar, the glass shattered, and a crystal ball dropped into Draco's open palm.  An owl soared through the window, landing on Draco's arm.  Hedwig.  The body whirling in the fireplace was Hermione.  A faint knock on the door was Ron.  All that was left was Harry.  Then the "Fearsome Four"-the four most powerful wizards in the world-would rise together and bring their master back to power.

            Harry paced back and forth across the room.  He could not leave, though he wished he could, to join his Master yet again.  

            Together, Draco, Ron, and Hermione read Harry's note.  He was unable to leave the Muggles, but he would call them by way of their scars later that night.  Yes, Harry was not the only one who had survived Lord Voldemort.  Hermione had a star-shaped scar on her lower back, Ron had a galleon scar on the left side of his rib cage, and Draco's was the Dark Mark, on the back of his left shoulder.  This connection enabled them to use their minds to converse.  But that night, they had joined forces to wreak havoc on the world.  To tell the world: You can't stop us now.  Yes, tonight was a night of resurrection and finishing unfinished deeds.  A night to commit the tasks that should have been fulfilled years before.  Tonight, they would kill.

            Harry could not bear to be away from his Master and fellow Death Eaters and schoolmates.  He put a silencing spell on his throat and screamed.  He screamed and yelled and cursed the Muggles for all they had done to him.  He cursed his mother and father for leaving him with the Muggles.  They had not died, but fled when Voldemort discovered they were double agents for Dumbledore.  When he stopped screaming, he comforted himself with the thought that his friends and comrades would break him out of that room in a few hours.  

            Hermione, Ron and Draco grasped hands and sat cross-legged in a circle on the cold, wet cement floor.  A circle of candles surrounded them, and another and another.  They all closed their eyes and hummed.  This was much like meditation, but they were focused on combining their mental abilities together into a crystal ball sitting in the centre of the circle, rather then on nothingness.  Hermione's intelligence and beauty went in, Draco's speed and sneakiness went in, and Ron's naiveté and foolishness went into this small ball, which was now quivering and shaking.  It burst and a bright light shone out of it, blinding the three even through their closed eyes.  They remained in the same position, their faces dripping with blood from the slivers of glass.

            Harry had had enough.  He longed to join Draco, Ron, and Hermione in their battle against the fascism of the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore.  He knew the three had already begun the process of Lord Voldemort's reincarnation.  He could feel the others' powers combining, and knew they were draining his as well.  He couldn't bear it any longer.  He blasted out of his bedroom, knocking a shelf of cat figurines off the wall outside his room.  The Muggles ran to find out the source of the crash and found Harry smashing everything he could reach.  They tried to stop him, but with two words and a flash of green light, they were dead.  He arranged the bodies to make it seem as though they had killed themselves, repaired everything as not to arouse suspicion, then Apparated to his comrades' sides.  

            Hermione had been thinking a lot about Death lately. She wondered if she would come back as a ghost, or as a spirit.  She wondered if ghosts were able to touch material things.  Maybe only poltergeists could do that.  Hermione and Harry had been ordered by the Dark Lord to marry when they graduated, and keep Dumbledore under tabs.  Harry already knew he was to be Minister of Magic, and Hermione was to be the new Headmistress.  They were to use these positions to one day rule the world.  

            Each of them slit their wrists.  They dripped the blood onto the crystal ball.  They drew their wands and chanted together a verse that would bring their Master to his full power.  When this was complete, they each drew their wands across the cuts on their wrists and mended them completely.  It was time.

            Voldemort rose slowly out of the pool of blood.  His eyes were piercing and sinister.  His long fingers were dripping blood.  His face was illuminated by the light reflecting off the crimson liquid all over the floor.  The four stared in awe at the remarkable sight, and simultaneously dropped to their knees.  They crawled forward to grasp the hem of his bloodstained robes with their left hands.  The sleeves of their robes slid, and the Dark Mark on their arms were blacker than they had ever been, and seared with pain.  They knew they were the only remaining Death Eaters, and their jobs were simple: kill.

***Psssst!  You!  See the task bar on the bottom left?  That button that says 'go'?  CLICK IT!***


	2. The Mirror of Erised

Shattered Glass

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to update! I'm going through a major dry spell that's lasted all summer and has extended into the new school year. Hopefully it's done by the time I'm back into English class! I hope you enjoy it, and if you notice any horribly misspelled words, or nasty grammatical errors, let me know! Anything that you recognize is Ms. Rowling's. Jeshickah and Fala are names I got from Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' book _"Midnight Predator"_. Again, enjoy!**

**t14m**

The Mirror of Erised

Harry Potter found himself standing in front of the Mirror of Erised. In his first year of Hogwarts, Harry saw his parents looking back at him. Now, in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, he saw himself free. His arm no longer had the black Dark Mark burned into it, his forehead no longer bore his trademark lightning bolt scar. All he wanted was for it to end. Harry nodded knowingly. This was the verification he needed. He turned and left the room without a backward glance. Harry Potter shut the door with a defining click that marked the beginning of the end.

Hermione Granger stood still in front of the Mirror. Her reflection showed her standing with Draco, holding an infant in her arms, Draco's arm around her waist. She felt warm, safe, standing in front of the Mirror, even though she knew that her dreams would never come to be. Not with Draco the way he was, not with her impending death, not with her planned marriage if her death did not come. She had been thinking a lot about Death lately. She wondered if she would come back as a ghost, or as a spirit. She wondered if ghosts were able to touch material things. Maybe only poltergeists could do that. She was about to find out. Hermione hugged herself from the biting cold and turned stiffly, leaving the door slightly open, to whatever may come.

Ronald Weasley hated Harry. Saint Potter. He hated him, he really did. But, since he needed Harry, he couldn't speak out. He instead took his anger and frustration out on himself. The cuts and scars down his arms held stories of their own. When Harry made him mad, he cut. Even when Harry didn't bother him, he would think of times when he had, and he would cut. It was an addiction. The same way others drink or do drugs, Ron cut. His mother noticed, but he told her that he had gotten in the way of one of Fred and George's experiments. After some mild prodding with her wand, she would send him on the way with a call after him to be careful. Now in the mirror, he saw himself standing with Draco and Hermione. No Harry. Ron cracked his knuckles maliciously and slammed the door on the room. He was going to get Harry.

Draco Malfoy. He was to be the fifth and final person to encounter the Mirror of Erised ever. He saw himself with Hermione. But this Hermione was different. She was happy. Not like the Hermione he knew now. Hermione was always sullen and withdrawn, preferring to keep her emotions under check instead of telling everyone about them. When she was upset, she would put on some Muggle music and read a book, write poetry or stories, and sometimes just sit and think. She rarely showed her poetry to anyone. Except Draco. She had written him a poem, just after they all received the Mark. He took it everywhere with him. He pulled it from his pocket and read it, reminding himself that he had to live, to get back to her. He unfolded the poem and read:

Roses on Cold Nights

Where have you gone?

I remember the cold nights

We spent together,

Under the stars.

When you wrapped your arms

Around me, I felt safe.

Secure. Like nothing could ever be wrong.

Where have you gone?

Each time you gave me a

Rose, I want you to know that I was yours.

I still am.

Then you went away from me.

Where have you gone?

I sold my soul to be with you again.

Now we are both

Together, yet so far

Apart.

Where have you gone?

They're taking me away

Where am I going?

Will you be there?

The darkness is overpowering.

I'm dying.

Where are you?

Where have you gone?

Before I die, Draco,

I want to say…

I love you.

Where have you gone?

With a sharp shock; and a jolt back to reality, Draco sensed that Hermione needed him. He rubbed his left forearm, put the parchment back into his pocket, and headed in the direction he knew she had gone, thus sealing the fate of the Four.

Walking briskly through the corridors, Severus Snape found himself mentally preparing himself for what was to come. Turning the corner, he found himself facing the Mirror of Erised. His reflection was standing behind a woman, his hand on her shoulder, and a small girl standing with her arms around his legs. Severus stepped back, shocked. It reflected a time far back in his past. Before his life at Hogwarts, before he was the man everyone feared. Before the fall of Voldemort. He had a family then. He had a wife, Jeshickah, and a little girl, Fala. Before Voldemort fell, Severus was a full-fledged Death Eater. When his daughter was born, Severus began to doubt Voldemort's ways. He left Voldemort and joined ranks with Dumbledore, in the crusade against his former lifestyle. Voldemort learned of this, and swore revenge on Severus. He chose Jeshickah and Fala, knowing that they were the two people Severus loved most. Severus got a distress call from Jeshickah one day and rushed home. He was too late. That moment, as soon as he walked into his home, was the moment his heart turned to an icy brick. Voldemort had gotten his revenge. He had destroyed the lives Severus cared most about. Snape became the man everyone feared, throwing himself into his work. Back in Hogwarts, a solitary tear slid down Severus's cheek. He wiped it away quickly and strode off, furious with himself for getting caught up in the past. But he couldn't help but glance back over his shoulder to take a final look at the life he had lost. Fala waved, and Jeshickah smiled sadly. He whispered "I'll be seeing you soon. We can be a family again," and bravely swept away to his death, shutting the door silently, never forgetting the reward for his sacrifice.

Upon Draco's arrival, Voldemort turned in his seat to face the four people lined up silently behind him. This was the night; he explained to them, that they would fulfill their destiny. He explained their battle plans and how they were to make the journey to the field. When they got there, Harry and Ron were to go one direction, and Draco and Hermione the other. When the time came, Ron and Hermione would meet and find Dumbledore, luring him to the planned spot under the pretence that Harry was in danger and in the possession of Voldemort. A double-bluff, so to speak.

Severus Snape stood outside the partially closed door of the meeting room. The last person to enter the room had forgotten to close it. They would pay for that later. He had heard every word that Voldemort had spoken. He knew where to meet, when to meet them… It was time for him to take the life that had destroyed so many others.


End file.
